Flambé’s heart began to pound. She pulled out her phone, unable to help herself, and texted Sevastyan. Worried Blaise might harm Terry or Jet.
Under control, baby, Sevastyan’s soft voice whispered in her ear.
She had to have faith that he did. Why was she so nervous? Why was she suddenly having doubts all over again? She pushed both hands through her hair, finding she was shaking. She didn’t want Blaise to be the one betraying her. All along she kept hoping they were all wrong.
Blaise had never really shown any signs of being a typical male shifter, arrogant and controlling—like Sevastyan. Like Mitya. Like so many of the others she saw take advantage of the women. He’d been sweet and friendly and always accommodating. When she’d turned him down after he’d asked her out, he’d never gotten weird with her, or upset. He took her refusal in stride. She’d made it clear she didn’t mix work with pleasure and she never had. If Blaise could turn on her after years of acting so caring, what did that mean for her future with a man like Sevastyan?
You’re crying, baby. What’s wrong? What’s going through your head? I’ll come to you right now if you need me. The hell with the plan. I’ll figure something out. The words whispered in her ear via the tiny radio.
She heard the anxiety in Sevastyan’s voice. He would come to her. He would blow the entire operation just because she was in tears. She wiped her face with her palms and shook her head. Nothing. Being silly. I get things in my head, she texted him.
She kept her eyes on Shanty, knowing just texting Sevestyan that much was enough for him to figure out what she was thinking. He knew her that well. It was their connection through the ropes. The way he read her.
Ambroise has an address. The boys are close. Tell Shanty to end the call.
Triumph burst through her. Flambé immediately signaled Shanty, who reluctantly allowed whoever was talking to her to dictate to her what she had to do. She kept nodding her head and sobbing. Abruptly she ended the call and returned to the table.
“They’re on their way to rescue him,” Flambé whispered to Shanty and indicated the water bottle. “Are the children okay?” she asked aloud for the sake of anyone listening.
“Yes. They’re very happy. Playing.” Shanty gave a little sniff. “I wanted you to meet me in South Africa for a reason. I wasn’t being silly. It’s my husband.” She lowered her voice even more. “He’s very abusive. When the poachers came, I took the opportunity to run with the children to try to get away from him. Most of the lair went in one direction, but I hid in all the chaos and he was fighting back with the men and I was able to get out with the children without him seeing us.”
Flambé frowned and leaned forward, dropping her chin onto the heel of her hand, her gaze on Shanty as if entirely riveted. Whoever was listening and watching would definitely think that Flambé was taking the bait. They needed to give the rescue team as much time as possible to get to her husband.
“Your mate’s name is Reiner?” Flambé interjected just for something to say, to slow time down.
Shanty got the hint and took another drink of water, nodding. “Yes. He’s horrible. He likes to beat me. It excites him. That’s what he does before he . . .” She broke off and looked down at the wooden beams running under her feet. “He’s very violent when he touches me after he beats me.”
Flambé would have known she was lying even if she couldn’t hear lies. Shanty sounded as if she’d rehearsed a written script. Someone had made her repeat the words over and over until they were memorized verbatim.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked, sitting up straight as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“He’s horrible. He likes to beat me. It excites him. That’s what he does before he . . .” She broke off, but this time she looked down at her hands, fingers twisted together in her lap. “He’s very violent when he touches me after he beats me.”
Definitely scripted and memorized. She’d repeated it verbatim down to the exact way she had acted. No one did that unless they were lying. Shanty put her hands back on the table and looked up at Flambé, almost afraid to breathe.
Flambé reached across the table sympathetically and laid her hand over Shanty’s. “I’m so sorry. That must be so awful for you. The extraction team got you out fast. He couldn’t have followed you here.”
“No, but he’ll know. He’ll find me. You know it’s impossible to hide from a leopard. No one can do it. No one. He said if I ever ran from him, he’d beat me to death. He promised me he would do it.” Shanty put her head down on the table and cried like her heart was breaking. The sobbing was genuine, a reaction to the terror of knowing men were trying to get her husband free of those holding him hostage.
“There are agencies in the United States that protect women,” Flambé said gently.
In her mind she was urging the rescue team to hurry. Every time she looked up, she could see that Blaise was inching closer to them. He couldn’t get too close. The moment the rescue team signaled they had Reiner, she was to make a break for the front door with Shanty. It was unlocked. She had only to fling the door open, get inside and slam it closed. Once inside, Blaise and Matherson couldn’t get to them. Unfortunately, that would leave Jet and Terry to the enemy, and that didn’t sit well with her.
“How are those agencies going to protect me against a shifter?” Shanty demanded, sitting up straight and dashing at her tears. “I watch enough news to know that your protection orders didn’t stop stalkers if they wanted to really hurt someone or kill them. It happens all the time. Judges throw out cases due to lack of evidence and cops don’t listen.”
Flambé sighed. “Well, that much is true. I have a man stalking me and I called the cops. I even own a very respected business and that hasn’t helped at all. They told me he hadn’t really done anything to warrant them arresting him. I felt threatened by him. He showed up everywhere I was, but until he ran me off the road and assaulted me, which I didn’t have proof of because it took place where no one was around, he hadn’t really done anything the cops considered to be dangerous.”
She rubbed her hairline where the swelling had been. “We can move you out of state, Shanty. We’ve got other businesses set up where you can work and make money. I can have my people watch the airports to see if he enters the country. There’s a man named Drake Donovan who owns a security company. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He might be able to help. I can reach out to him on your behalf as well.”
She wanted to text Sevastyan that the team had to hurry. What if something was going wrong? She could see panic beginning to gather in Shanty’s eyes. She was beginning to feel it in the pit of her stomach. How long did a rescue take? How many men were holding Shanty’s husband hostage? Did Ambroise have that information? She should have asked. She had to keep calm so Shanty would.
She lifted the water bottle to her mouth and took a long, deliberate drink, giving herself time to mark Blaise’s position. He was a few feet closer to them, but still several yards away. He was certain Shanty was doing her job, convincing Flambé she was an abused woman.
Shanty shook her head with a little moan of fear. “He’ll find me. You know he will. You have to help me, Flambé. I know you can. I heard that you can.”
Flambé drummed her fingers on the tabletop. It would be risky to capitulate this soon. She wouldn’t do that. “I’m trying to help you, Shanty. You’re not willing to take any of the avenues I’ve got open for you. I will admit, running from a shifter isn’t the easiest thing, especially with three little ones in tow, but if he’s as bad as you say, I don’t think you have a choice. If it was me, I’d opt to make a run for it. I’d go to Donovan for help. He’s got an entire security force and he knows all kinds of places he can put you where your husband would have a difficult time finding you.”
Shanty was silent for a long time. “Have you sent other women to Donovan before?” she finally asked, her voice very low, but she made certain the sound carried enough that Blaise, the way he’d inched closer, couldn’t fail to hear, nor could anyone else who was listening through the bug that had been planted on her.